Keeping the Faith
by tati1
Summary: What were the underlying politics of creating an organization of assassins? The bartering of a life for the ability to murder...The corruption of the Takatori's.


**Keeping the Faith**

by tati1

Disclaimer: I do not own the awesomeness of Weiss Kreuz.

**Keeping the Faith**

by tati1

Takatori Shuichi was determined to kill his brother. He just needed to wait for the perfect time; when he had proof of his brother's wrongdoings, when his brother became too dangerous to remain alive, when – most importantly – he had the resources to take down the head of the Takatori family and all the evils that went along with it.

Resources…what a funny way to refer to an organization of assassins, for that was what he wanted. He would create a group that shared his vision – or at least a part of it – to kill those who committed evil deeds when the law would let them walk free. First though, he needed help. He needed people to bring in others, because his own sources were limited. And to get their help, he needed proof of his dedication to the cause he claimed to want to create. No one would help him if they didn't have proof that he wouldn't back out, or betray them, or turn evil himself.

He had that proof.

WKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWK

Nashiba Shotaru was considering becoming an assassin. He was a retired elite soldier from the Japanese military, and found it rather dull. Takatori's proposition was most interesting; fighting to destroy evil and all that jazz…it still made him feel like a superhero. But before he agreed to help Takatori he'd need –

"I need proof that your killers will abide by Kritiker. I need proof that your killers can trust Kritiker to not make them kill innocent people." He watched warily as Takatori smiled and motioned to his personal assistant, a red-haired woman who was far too pretty for her job description. She pulled out a manila envelope from her handbag and passed it to Nashiba, who took it while wondering idly if it contained something to kill him for being so disagreeable. It didn't. Instead, it contained a photograph, and a sheet of data.

"Takatori…Mamoru," he murmured, reading the chart. He looked at the picture of a sweet little boy with brown hair and enormous blue eyes on an almost scarily cherubic face. He looked up, confused. "What's this?"

"His name is Tsukiyono Omi now. He was kidnapped for ransom, but his father, my brother, refused to pay it. I rescued him a few months ago. He has lost his memory of his past, but I still remember. He will be your insurance," said Takatori calmly. "He will be raised as an assassin, trained by the people you bring into Kritiker. Eventually, he will become a member of our main assassin organization, which shall be known as Weiss Kreuz. His codename is Bombay."

Nashiba sat back, expressionless. This was…far more than he had expected, really. He felt a chill, looking across the conference room table at Takatori, who had just sentenced his nephew to a life of murder. How much could he trust this man? But…

He put the photograph and data sheet back in the folder and tucked it into his jacket.

"I'm in."

_If only to keep you from corrupting Kritiker_, he added silently.

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"Kritiker has discovered a traitor. It's one of the higher-ups, so we need you to make it look like an accident to prevent generating distrust of Kritiker. His name is Nashiba Shotaru; he's one of our recruiters. He's murdered several agents appointed by Persia; we've only recently pinpointed him as the killer." Manx watched the boy as he calmly examined Nashiba's picture. This was his first time seeing the ex-soldier. "You've never met him because you're in separate divisions."

"Bombay," said Persia, his shadowed figure replacing Nashiba's picture on the screen, "deny this dark beast his tomorrows." The television blanked out.

"This will be your first mission, Bombay," said Manx quietly. "Are you prepared to accept?" It was a rhetorical question, of course; they both knew that, though only Manx knew why. Bombay was Kritiker property. He would never be able to leave.

He nodded quietly, rose, and left the room to prepare for his first kill.

WKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWKWK

"Takatori…Mam…o—" Nashiba gave a final gurgle and died as Omi's final dart pierced his throat; cutting off his dying words. Omi frowned as he collected his darts. They were specially made, so the puncture wounds would vanish within an hour of being removed. The poison they had been loaded with was also undetectable. Nashiba was fairly old and didn't have that healthy a diet anymore; this would be passed off as an unfortunate heart attack. Omi wasn't at all worried, and he wasn't that upset about his first kill. He was, however, a little curious that Nashiba would try to give him a message before his death. Takatori? Curious.

Omi shrugged and left the room, abandoning that line of thought. It wasn't his business to wonder about his targets after their deaths. All he had to do was trust in Kritiker and Persia, and everything would be fine.

There was nothing else to believe in.

Owari.


End file.
